Hermione Granger: Evil Extraordinaire
by envious-ema
Summary: Harry has a lot of problems, including a blond called Draco Malfoy and it's all Hermione's fault...somehow! Warnings: Slash HP/DM , fluff, EWE, one-shot, Written for Hd smoochfest on LJ detailed Prompt inside Please R/R :


**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter and Co belongs to JKR. No disrespect intended nor any profit being made.

**A/N:** Written for Hd_Smoochfest on LJ.  
**Prompt:** # 70  
EWE, Post Hogwarts. A prep school to prepare muggle-born children for the magical world and teach pure-blooded children to say words like "electricity" properly. Harry has been asked to teach at the newly created preparatory school Hogwarts has opened. Draco, having nursed a slight obsession with Harry since being saved during the final battle, somehow secures himself a position so that he can be closer to Harry. UST ensues.

* * *

Hermione Granger-Weasley was an evil and cruel woman. She liked to put on a façade of a goody-goody but Harry knew better. He knew exactly what she was up to and she wasn't going to win. She had been indicating and pushing Harry towards a certain blond since he'd started working here, but this was the limit. Harry huffed in frustration before pulling on his tie and stupid tuxedo in order to attend this stupid Muggle dance. It was all Hermione's fault; she was the reason why Harry was a teacher at this school, why he had to endure Draco Malfoy every day, why he had to wear this stupid tuxedo.

He glanced at the mirror and saw the familiar, yet just a little different, face looking back at him, not the scrawny, knobbly-kneed, round-spectacled Harry Potter, but a broad shouldered, square-jawed man with stylish silver frames. Hermione assured him he looked _fine_ and not stupid at all but, then again, what did she know?

Tugging on his tie, he made it down to the main hall, which for tonight only was transformed to look like a Muggle ball room. Harry could see all the kids and parents mingling; some were dancing, others stood around with a drink, but all were having a good time. The sound of laughter and chatter filled the air with vibrant energy and Harry felt a little shiver travel down his spine, as if something big and poignant was going to happen tonight.

He shook off the feeling and made his way to the head table where all the school associates were seated, along with their families. He found Ron wiping Rose's face before giving her a big kiss, making her giggle loudly. Hermione and Draco were busy with what seemed to be a fierce discussion with lots of hand gestures and hushed whispers. It was a scene Harry would never, ever get used to--Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger being best of friends.

He smiled a little to himself before doing a double-take when it registered that Draco was wearing a Muggle tuxedo, as well. Harry took in the sight at a leisurely pace; Malfoy had grown up pretty, almost _too pretty._ Draco was still slender and just an inch or so shorter than Harry's 6-foot 3, his pointy face had filled out over the years, but his patrician face still remained haughty and arrogant. His hair no longer slicked back, but fell around his face in a stylishly messy way that Harry's hair would never be able to. His pouty lips that were just made for kissing no longer sneered at Harry, but smirked knowingly and smiled politely and it irritated Harry because he couldn't decide if he wanted to punch the git or kiss him breathless.

And that, ladies and gentlemen, was what bothered Harry the most. At first he was sure this whole school idea was some sort of evil scheme of Malfoy's, but as he spent more and more time with Draco he saw how wrong he had been about the blond. He was still his snarky, arrogant self, but he wasn't cruel or evil. Harry had started admiring and respecting him, but then something had happened. He started noticing how gorgeous Malfoy was. Harry rationalised it, thinking anybody alive could appreciate how beautiful Draco was. But then Harry started having dreams which made it impossible for him to look at Draco in the eye the next day.

When Harry's eyes travelled back up, he found himself eye to eye with those beautiful grey ones that haunted Harry's dreams. _No_, nightmares, okay, so dreams. Dreams Harry really would like to come true. In his dreams those eyes were filled with lust for Harry and only Harry, but now they were sparkling with amusement. Harry blushed at being caught looking at someone so intimately, and Draco just raised his eyebrow in question. Harry cursed his libido; he really needed to get laid. Why else would he get so turned on by a stupid eyebrow raise thingy?

Harry was about to make his way to the table, but stopped midway when Draco's date wrapped his arms around Draco's waist. Harry looked at the "date" with a narrowed glare. '_Stupid trampy twinky whore_,' thought Harry viciously. He questioned why he was getting so angry, but he just knew he wouldn't be able to sit next to them for a second without throwing up if they started sucking faces, so he made the wise decision and went to the bar. It was going to be a long night; he might as well get drunk.

This whole nightmare had started with an owl, a stupid owl. Actually that was a lie. It all started with evil Hermione and her evil plans, and Harry just _knew_ she was involved somehow.

_****************************************************************************_

**Three months earlier…**

The tapping on his kitchen window alerted Harry of the owl's presence. It came as a surprise because he didn't get many owls these days, what with being a hermit, and all. Well, a wannabe hermit because he hadn't been able to actually accomplish it, but he tried. He was still in contact with the Weasleys and Hermione, who was now a Weasley, too; for some reason they just wouldn't leave him alone.

After the war ended Harry decided to wash his hands of the Wizarding World. He couldn't even go outside to get milk without being harassed and hounded for photographs and interviews, or people trying to shake his hand, or give him a hug. It came to such a point that Harry wasn't even safe at his own home. With the secret keeper dead the _Fidelius_ on Grimmauld Place was broken, so reporters and paparazzi camped outside of Grimmauld Place for just a sneak peek. Fan mail arrived every day, full of gratitude and appreciation, and some even sent naked pictures of themselves. Harry still remembered the shock and the sheer horror he had felt the first time he opened one of _those_ letters. Being a stupidly curious person, he had picked up the picture that fell out of the letter with no hesitation. He didn't know what he had expected to see, but it sure as hell wasn't a pair of double D's, naked and bouncing. Harry still didn't know if it was because of that picture that he found women a total turn off or not, but it was instrumental in him admitting to the Wizarding World that yes, he was, in fact, gay.

And that was when all hell broke loose. If he had thought the publicity was bad after he had killed Voldemort, it was nothing compared to the nightmare he had faced after he had announced his sexual orientation. Homosexuality wasn't necessarily frowned upon in the Wizarding World, but they certainly had problems with Harry Potter being gay. _The Hero of the Wizarding World… gay?_ What a shame. Harry was being constantly hounded by everyone to the point he couldn't even get out of the house. Howlers arrived daily in sacks full and exploded all over his kitchen. Hermione insisted that it would all go away eventually, but Harry had enough. He said his goodbyes, packed up his belongings and left the magical world behind him.

He let the owl in and took the letter offered to him with a suspicious look. He ripped it open with an impatience that was suited for a 12 year old not a 27 year old.

_Dear Harry,  
How are you? I hope you're well. We're all doing great, Ron had a promotion at work recently and now he's the head of Magical Sports. You should see the way he gloats. Little Rose is doing fine, she's cutting teeth at the moment and we haven't had a wink of sleep in what feels like weeks, but other than that life is great. Harry, I was wondering if you could do me a big favour and meet me at my office some time next week? I have something really important to discuss with you. Please send your reply back with Sasha.  
Love Hermione._

Harry read the letter and wondered what could be so important that Hermione would be so secretive, but going to her office wouldn't be a problem. He had been there a fair few times, under a disguise of course, but he knew if she invited him to go to such a public place she would make sure no one would be around. A little bit curious, and a little resigned, he sent a hasty reply back, although he wondered what Hermione was up to now.

_No good, that's what,_ thought Harry, first when she told him her plan, and even two weeks later when she invited him again to look around Hogwarts where the summer school was being set; he was still of that opinion.

Harry stepped out of the fireplace with a scowl on his face; wiping the soot from his shoulders. He took a deep breath. It did nothing to calm him, but he still wiped the scowl off his face. It just wouldn't do to show his irritation in front of Hermione. He made his way down the hallway with determination evident in his strides; it would be a quick meeting, anyway. He would go in, tell Hermione what an idiotic plan this was, and then leave, go back to his ordinary Muggle life. Well it would've been, if Hermione wasn't so evil.

"Harry, this is a great idea and it's a great opportunity for you to come back to the Wizarding World," she tried to reason.

"Hermione, this is like the stupidest idea, _ever_, even stupider then SPEW." He crossed his arms and slumped on the chair, not caring he looked like a five year old sulking. "And I don't want to come back to the Wizarding World."

Hermione pursed her lips, looking eerily similar to her mother-in-law, but Harry wisely kept his mouth shut as there was no need borrowing trouble. "There's no need to get nasty," she said in a clipped tone of voice.

He snorted and she took a deep breath. "Harry, this school will build bridges between the Muggle and Wizarding World, it will close the gap between the Muggle-born and the pureblood children. We can help these children feel more comfortable and in-tune with their worlds. With understanding comes tolerance and acceptance. We can prevent another Voldemort from rising, another war from happening." Oh, she thought she was so clever bringing that up, but Harry wasn't budging. Hermione sighed; she should be used to it by now, because she had trouble convincing almost everybody that this was a great idea, but somehow she apparently expected Harry to understand. "Look, Harry, I get that people are apprehensive, but it's something that needs to be done."

Harry nodded. "Yes I understand all that. I'm not against you opening the school, and I don't even mind being personally involved, but why do I have to come and teach?"

Hermione smiled. "Because you're a great teacher and you would understand where the students are coming from, as you've been living in the Muggle world for the last ten years and teaching children like them. Look, Harry, it's been 10 years and the whole 'Boy-Who-Lived' frenzy has died down."

She was right, of course, but Harry still wasn't convinced. He knew it had been 10 years since Voldemort, but he had been so comfortable living as a Muggle that he just didn't want to give up that anonymity, that security.

"Hermione, I'm sorry, but I just can't do it. Yes, I do miss living in the Wizarding World and I would love to help you out, but I really can't." Harry felt really bad letting her down, but he had the right to be a little selfish, _right?_

Hermione nodded sadly as if in understanding before standing up. "I really do understand Harry, but I just had to ask, and thanks for coming, anyway." She hugged him, making him feel even worse. "Well, I hate to hurry you off, Harry, but I have another meeting in ten minutes and Draco doesn't like tardiness."

Harry was already on his way to the door when he froze in his tracks. Surely he had misheard something? "Malfoy? Draco Malfoy?" The stunned disbelief was clear in his voice.

Hermione raised her eyebrows. "Do you know any other Draco?"

Was she out of her mind? Did she get possessed by something when he wasn't looking? "Hermione why are you calling Malfoy _Draco_, and why are you having a meeting with him?"

Hermione looked at him a little weirdly. "Because he's my friend and it's a school meeting," she replied as if that explained everything.

"Since when Draco Malfoy is your friend, and what does he have to do with the school?" Maybe Malfoy was planning to do something sinister with the school; it would be just like Malfoy to do something like that.

"Since for a long time, and as the co-founder of this school he is entitled to know what goes on with the school," she said impatiently before getting ready to leave.

Harry stood in his spot, dumbfounded for a minute, before he opened his mouth to say something. Nothing came out because, really, what could he say apart from, "Are you fucking nuts?"

Hermione was irritated with his goldfish routine before she said, "Look, Harry, like I keep telling you, it's been ten years since the war and a lot of things have changed, including Draco Malfoy. Draco has paid his price and made his amends and, don't give me that look Harry James Potter, you don't know the things he has done. I'm sorry, Harry, but I really have to go. I have to give Draco the curriculum outline and then approve his class schedule and lesson plans. Then I have to go to Hogwarts for a meeting with Minerva."

"Lesson plans?" _Walk away Harry, walk away now_.

"Yes. Didn't I tell you Draco is going to be a teacher here, as well?"

***

Harry was too busy contemplating what Malfoy was up to now to notice the gleeful smirk on his best friend's face.

Hermione congratulated herself for being oh-so brilliant as she saw Harry take the bait. She could tell by his face there was an internal battle going on inside her best friend, and she knew her side was winning. Oh yes, there was no way Harry would be able to stay away now. She didn't know what it was about Draco that riled Harry so, but she knew it would get the reaction she wanted. She almost felt bad for being so manipulative, but then instantly shook it off; this was for Harry's good. Harry belonged in the Wizarding World, and no matter how much he insisted, she knew he really wasn't happy in the Muggle world. He just needed a nudge and Hermione, being the good friend she was, just pointed him in the right direction. She wondered if she really was spending too much time with Draco if she was thinking like that.

Smiling inwardly, she landed her final blow. "Well I guess Draco will be happy that you've said no, he was _really_ against me trying to hire you as the Muggle Relations teacher. I guess I have to leave all the classes to Draco before I can find another teacher."

For the first time since he entered her office, Harry grinned. "I just bet he was. Well, Hermione, I think you've convinced me, so when do I start?"

_And that, as they say, was that._

***

Harry packed his suitcase with a sad frown on his face. He looked around the newly bared room. It had never been _home,_ but he had lived here for the last ten years, so certain sentiments were expected. His eyes focused on the brightly coloured poster where all the childish scrawls declared their love for Mr. Potter and how much they will miss him. Harry felt a little heartbroken; he was going to miss the kids most of all. The Muggle school had been his refuge, but _now_, now he was going back to everything he had left behind. Harry didn't know if he was ready to go back or not, but he had to, if only to save the Wizarding World from evil Malfoy's clutches. Evil Hermione, thought Harry, it was all her fault, _somehow_.

He was damn sure of it.

_***************************************************************************_

Draco sighed despondently before shedding his tux jacket and loosening his tie halfway. He really thought it would work, bringing a date, so that it would make Harry jealous. Hermione had assured him it would, but it didn't. He had only managed to drive Harry away. Not only that, but now Draco ended up with a headache from the incessant chatter and almost girlish giggles of his so-called date, and Harry hasn't moved away from the bar the whole night.

There came a time in every man's life when his whole world changed based on a single moment. It could be the first time they fell in love, or the first time they saw the proud glint on their parents' faces, or the first time they achieved something they had always wanted, or the first time they held their first-born. For Draco it had been the moment Harry Potter had saved him from the fire in the Room of Requirement.

Draco still dreamed of the calloused hand holding his so tightly before pulling him to safety. He still remembered the smell of burning, and Harry, and the feeling that came over him as he screwed his eyes shut and held on to Harry for life, hid his face in the crook of Harry's neck and breathed in a sense of peace and happiness, the feeling that he was safe from everything as long as he was with Harry. It was the moment he fell utterly and irrecoverably in love with his enemy, the moment Harry Potter became just Harry, _his Harry.  
_  
Since then every single thing Draco had done and achieved had been for Harry, to impress him, to make Harry proud of him. When Harry announced he was gay Draco felt hope flutter in his chest, but he knew there was no way Harry would ever consider loving him, a cowardly Death Eater, and the son of Voldemort's right hand man. And then Harry left the Wizarding World. Draco felt a despair like none other, he literally felt like his heart was breaking, but he knew Harry had to get away from all the madness.

Thus Draco threw himself into rebuilding the Malfoy name, or that's what he told his friends and family anyway, when in actual fact he was trying to right his wrongs, the wrongs he had done towards Harry.

He started thinking of a way to really bridge the gap between Muggle-born and pureblood children so another Voldemort wouldn't rise, and another Harry Potter wouldn't have to give up his freedom. And, just like that, he came up with the idea of a type of Muggle-wizard prep school, where all the children (after they received their Hogwarts letter) would come for five weeks of schooling before going to Hogwarts.

In the school the Muggle-born children would be taught Wizarding traditions and culture, whereas the wizard children would be taught about the Muggle culture and their way of life, so the gap that always existed between Muggle-born children and wizard-born children would lessen.

At first he didn't have much confidence in the idea, but he met with Hermione Granger anyway. He knew if anyone would be willing to help with an idea like this it would be her. And he wasn't wrong, she had been amazed and almost astounded at his idea, but she had been excited as well. It was strange how she jumped through hoops with the Ministry and did most of the ground work to establish his dream, for someone who made her school life miserable, someone she didn't particularly like, only because she believed his idea had merit. She even managed to get Minerva to offer Hogwarts as a summer school where the classes would take place, it was then Draco understood why Harry was friends with her and Weasley.

It took a while, but through the months they spent planning and preparing Draco even established a truce of sorts with Hermione's husband Ron and almost a friendship with Hermione, when she somehow figured out his feelings for Harry. Draco was sure she would've hexed him for even thinking he had a chance with Harry, but she just smiled weirdly before saying she thought Harry being the Muggle Relations teacher would be a great idea. He didn't even realise what she was up to until Draco found himself being the Wizard Relations teacher and both him and Harry ended up living under the same roof--albeit their rooms were at the opposite end of the castle--but still, they were breathing the same air.

Draco rolled his sleeves up before pouring himself another drink; he pulled out his table drawer where a lonely shoe box sat. He pulled the lid off softly and sadly smiled at the contents: newspaper cuttings, all full of news about Harry, a picture of Harry he had "borrowed" from Hermione and never given back, a Snitch Hermione gave him for his birthday, which confused him to no end until she explained that it was Harry's favourite Snitch.

Draco refused to think of the box as some sort of a shrine, but in a way he guessed it was. These were his precious possessions, glimpses of Harry, something Harry had once touched. He knew how pathetic it was and he knew he would die of mortification if Harry ever found out. Not that he would; Harry avoided him like the plague. For the last two months they had been living in the same place, eating the same food, teaching the same students and Harry hadn't even talked to him or as much as spared him a friendly nod in passing.

Hermione told him that it would take a little time that Harry was a little slow, but he would come around soon enough.

But Draco knew it was wishful thinking; it was never going to happen. Harry probably had a boyfriend waiting for him back in the Muggle world where he would scuttle back to now that the first batch of students had graduated and been sent off home before they returned in September for their real schooling. Draco wondered what he should do for the rest of the summer. Go back to Wiltshire, he supposed, spend some time with his parents before deciding what to do with the rest of the year.

He finally got himself out of his funk and was just about to start getting ready for bed when the loud knocking came. Looking at the table clock, he wondered who could be at his door at nearly 3 in the morning. Draco opened the door with a little irritation, which instantly transformed to disbelief when he saw who it was.

"Draco!" Harry said happily.

Draco wondered if he somehow ended up in alternative reality while he was busy reminiscing. "Potter?"

Harry scowled. "Don't call me Potter, Draco, call me…Draco Potter?" He grabbed Draco's tie as he swayed.

"Are you drunk Pot… Harry?" Draco didn't know if he should be amused or annoyed.

"Nope, no, I don't know?" Harry questioned before he pulled himself even closer to Draco. He touched Draco's cheek with his other hand almost reverently before whispering, "You're so goddamned pretty."

Draco's breathing hitched. What he wouldn't give for Harry to say that to him when he was sober. He took in Harry's messy hair, glassy bright eyes, lips ruby red from biting and he was so tempted. He knew it would be oh-so easy; Harry was drunk and most likely wouldn't remember. It would be the Slytherin thing to do, to take advantage, but he pulled back; he still had his pride.

"Come on, Potter, before you cause a scene in the corridors and end up on the front page of the _Prophet_." With that, he pulled Harry into his room before shutting the door.

Harry looked around curiously and whirled round. "You don't have that trampy bitch in here do you? You'd better not," Harry said warningly.

It took a second for Draco to realise who Harry was talking about and he had to stop himself from cheering out loud. Maybe Harry was jealous? "No, the 'trampy bitch' is on his way to god-knows-where." Harry nodded as if satisfied with the answer and Draco felt even more gleeful; Harry really had been jealous.

Harry swayed a little and Draco had to steady him before he ended up flat on his face. "Thanks, Draco, you're so good."

Draco laughed to himself and thought, _Poor Harry; you are going to hate yourself tomorrow_. He helped Harry to sit on the couch properly and got up to find a Sobering Potion because otherwise Harry was going to have the mother of a hangover come tomorrow morning.

Harry shifted and shuffled a little before making himself comfortable and continuing, "Actually, no, you're not good; you're evil, evil, evil; even eviler than Hermione."

Draco wondered why it hurt so much to hear it out loud; he knew that Harry thought of him like that, anyway. He busied his hands with finding the potion when Harry continued, "Yes. You are evil. You invade my dreams and annoy me, and you do these things to my body that make me feel like…"

Draco turned around so quickly he heard his neck crick a little. Surely Harry hadn't meant what it sounded like. He found Harry looking at him with the oddest expression on his face, like he couldn't decide what to do with Draco.

"Feel like?" Draco prompted.

"Feel like… like I could _love_ you," Harry whispered.

Draco felt his whole world tilt and then fall back into its place. He wondered for a second if it was what American's called being sucker-punched. He expected something sexual, like Harry wanted to fuck him, because, not to brag or anything, but most everybody he met did. But he didn't expect this, he didn't expect _love_. Draco wanted to shout and scream with joy, and dance around, and do cartwheels but it just wasn't dignified for a Malfoy to do such things… in company anyway.

He looked up to see why Harry was being so quiet when he saw Harry had fallen asleep on the couch. Confused with his own feelings, Draco summoned a blanket before draping it over Harry, leaving a Hangover Potion by his side. Draco went to bed, not that he would sleep, but he had a lot of thinking to do.

***

Morning dawned bright and ugly for Harry. He woke up with what felt like thousands of elephants dancing inside his skull. Blearily, he opened his eyes and found himself in unfamiliar surroundings. Did he fall asleep in a ditch somewhere? It didn't feel like a ditch, it felt like a bed or a couch. Oh god, he hoped he didn't do anything stupid and slept with some stranger or something because that would be just fucking cliché, even for him.

He opened his eyes again and immediately found what looked like a Sobering Potion. Thanking every deity that at least he had chosen a kind stranger, Harry downed the potion and it was almost like an electric shock.

That was the only way to describe how Harry remembered everything instantly. He sat up straight, ignoring the pain in his body from sleeping at the awkward angle, but that wasn't important. What was important that he was in Draco's room, and that he had declared his love for Draco last night!

Humiliation crept up his face; Harry just couldn't believe he'd done that. What Draco must be thinking? He was just contemplating leaving when Draco came through the door. He looked fresh and clean, his hair windblown, and Harry felt his heart skip a beat before pounding a little faster. Draco offered him a kind smile before taking a seat.

_Oh, here we go_, thought Harry. Here comes the_ 'I'm flattered, but I'm not interested, Potter speech'_.

"Harry, I'm going to say something to you that I've never told anyone before, okay?" Draco said and there was something in his voice that made Harry look up, but Draco was staring somewhere past Harry's ear.

"When I first started working towards 'rebuilding the Malfoy name', and even trying to make this school a reality, people always looked at me with disgust and distrust. I wasn't surprised by it, because I expected it, but I didn't imagine the extent of it, or how it would feel." Draco had the saddest smile on his face and, at that moment, Harry would've given up everything to replace that with a happy one. He balled his fists to stop himself from reaching out to touch, just one touch. He remembered touching that beautiful face last night, those soft, pale cheeks. It was such a fleeting touch that it left Harry hungry for more, now he wanted to lick it among other things.

Draco continued speaking and Harry berated himself for being such a horny idiot. He paid more attention. "…and every time it all got too much I would close my eyes and I would think of that _one moment_ that changed my whole life, that single moment when you offered me your hand and pulled me out of the fire, the moment I fell in love." Draco's smile wasn't sad now, but loving.

Harry thought back to that moment and wondered what Draco would do if he knew it was the moment Harry fell in love, too. Those slender arms had wrapped around his waist, Draco's face tucked into his neck, and later he marveled as to why he felt so happy at that moment, they were minutes away from death, and all Harry was thinking that if he died right now he would die happy.

"Do you understand what I'm saying, Harry?" Draco looked at him finally, his eyes both hopeful and apprehensive.

Harry nodded. "Maybe I am a little slow at things, Draco, but not that slow."

They both looked at each other for a second before both of them burst out laughing, Harry didn't know why it was so funny but for some reason it was. He thought, no, _knew_ it was because they were both a little relieved, and a lot in love.

"Why are we laughing?" asked Draco, a little breathlessly.

"I don't know, maybe it's true what they say; love makes people do crazy things."

"Yeah, like what?" Draco licked his lips, making them so tempting that Harry didn't want to resist any more.

"Like, it makes me want to kiss you," Harry whispered feeling delighted as he heard Draco's breath hitch.

"That's not crazy, Potter, that's the cleverest thing you've ever said." Draco smirked.

"I can be clever sometimes," Harry said as he leaned forward.

Draco hid his smile before saying, "Yes, I guess even a true stupid has to have his moment, sometimes." But his eyes were filled with only affection.

"Hey!" Harry protested, but stopped when he saw the smirk on Draco's face; it turned Harry on so much that he just couldn't stop himself from stealing a taste. Yes, it certainly was the cleverest idea Harry ever had.

The kiss was wet and messy and hot beyond hell, like they both couldn't get enough of each other's taste. Somehow Harry ended up in Draco's lap, their hips grinding while their tongues mated in its own dance. Harry pulled back a little to see Draco's flushed face and he was hit by such a wave of love that he just blurted out, "You know I love you, right? Like really in love, like I have to spend the rest of my life with you or I might die." It wasn't an exaggeration.

He was cursing his foolishness before he saw the way Draco's eyes lit up like Christmas had come early. He pulled Harry into another kiss, this one less sexual and more loving, almost reverent, before whispering, "I love you, Harry Potter." Simple and sweet, Harry liked it, a lot.

Maybe Hermione wasn't evil, after all, he thought, but a sheer genius before all his thoughts were drowned out by his Draco.

In Gryffindor Tower Hermione Granger watched her husband playing peek-a-boo with their daughter and raised her glass of sherry in celebration. _Not evil_, she mused. _Just a genius woman with an even more genius plan_.

* * *

Thank you for reading & hope you guys enjoyed ^^ Please let me know what you thought :)


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